So, tell me, just what did happen next?
And so we shall…
For the last 45 minutes, Brute had been irately eyeing a particular table.
Not surprisingly, it was the one Jack, the 3 men, and the emerald laden sultry lady were occupying!
Or as Brue saw it.
One loud-mouthed scoundrel of a sailor, 2 tight-lipped yes men, their jolly like a snake boss whose business did not belong in his pub and some over jewelled tart in a red dress who had better be mindful of the area of town where she had been brought!
Except for the two tight lipped goons, the occupants of that table have grown more vocal, their tongues loosened by the pints of beer being consumed.
Most of the other patrons were watching them with interest, and stealing glances over to Brute to see if he was growing agitated with them.
He was, his hand polishing his mahogany bar clean was gripping the washcloth like he was strangling a chicken!!
And apparently, the attention Brute is giving the table had not gone unnoticed, for they were quite obviously talking about Brute himself, judging by the way they had all been stealing looks his way.
Seeing this also made Brute quite a bit more upset, and the chortling patrons seated at the table apparently knew it, much to his chagrin.
So it was with grinding teeth that Brute observed the thin man in the sailors’ rig rise and head up, a little wobbly, towards the bar, with his fellow tablemates, the dolled-up tart, and most of the rest of the pubs drinking patrons all watching with whetted keen interest.
The thin sailor sat down at one end of the bar and called out cheerfully…
“Hey barkeep, a shot of the devil’s own then!”
Brute poured a bit of rotgut in a shot glass, and intending to give the young sailor a piece of mind, walked ( rather than sliding ) it over to him.
“Look ’ere now, want no troubles from you or your friends, mate, Capish lad?”! he warned the grinning sailor in a stern tone.
Then he gave the sailor a second, closer look over...
“Aye, Wait a minute didn’t I see you in my pub last night?”
“Indeed you did my most observant sir, Indeed you did, and Jacks the name mister Brute!”
Jack offered a hand to shake, which was ignored by Brute.
Unfazed, the sailor withdrew his hand and continued:
“But my friends all call me Jackie sir, and you may call me by that, for we are all friends here in this fine establishment you own Eh Brute!”
As Jackie nodded he watched the burly, stern eyed barkeep, who did not nod in agreement to Jackie’s words!
Dead silence also greeted Jack’s question from the rest of the pub’s occupants!
Unfazed, Jackie continued…
“Came here on a lark last evening, enjoyed your fine establishment so much, decided to return!”
He still looked into Brute’s eyes, but the barkeep was having none of it, no scrawny excuse for a sailor was going to butter him up!
Jackie continued smiling and said in answer to himself since no words were coming out of the mouth of a stone silent brute. The rest of the bar had grown quiet, many of the patrons standing and circling around the bar to watch, sure that this lad named Jackie was going to end up on the losing end of Brute Burton’s temper!
“No worries than my man, just here again in your fine establishment for a friendly drink.”
Jackie slid a couple of coins to the barkeep who began to pick them up.
“Say, barkeep, would you now be interested in winning few coins from a betting sailor with no’thin better to do with his money?” Jackie amiably asked the stern gazing Brute.
One could hear a pin drop in the Poet and Peasant Pub after Jackie spoke those words!
A Challenge Given